Dead Among the Living
by MHCynogriffon
Summary: Death is not gentle. But neither is life.
1. Chapter 1

Death is not quiet. It is not gentle, nor peaceful, nor soft; it comes roaring towards you, teeth bared and claws unsheathed. It pulls at you until you are torn into pieces. It is painful, and loud, and harsh.

Legolas had seen it many times before, but that was not enough to prepare him for it. When the spider bit, severing his carotid artery and spraying his life blood against the trees, he felt every bit of it. The pain was agonizing, but there was nothing he could do about it. He felt the impact of his back against the hard forest floor, heard someone shout his name in a panic, but his vision was already fading and he knew there was no hope for him. He would die here. He tried to gasp out a last word, but only blood gurgled out of his mouth. Soon, the bleeding was too much and he slipped away.

Darkness.

Darkness all around him, any spark of light seemed to be sucked out of the world. A putrid smell filled his sensitive nose, the stench of death and blood mixed with decay. He could hear hushed whispers if he strained his ears hard enough, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

He could never remember what truly happened, there was a blank spot in his memory between when he died and when he woke up, but he knew there must have been something there besides the darkness. For when the sun rose over Mirkwood, splashing pink and orange across the horizon, he sat up on a soft bed, gasping, his life returned to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Lord Elrond;

I will assume word of my son's resurrection will have reached your ears by now, although I don't know if you will have heard of his condition currently. He seems to worsen every day. I know we have had our differences in the past, but this is my son and I will have the best healer in Arda for him. We have already began preparations to come to Rivendell, and I hope you will receive us. If you do not... I have no idea what I will do.

Thranduil


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry, this chapter kinda sucks. I haven't written anything in a while and am just getting back into it. But I updated! If you enjoy, don't forget to review!**

Legolas' eyes were dull, a silver sheen covering the irises, reminding Thranduil of the many dead eyes he had closed in his lifetime. He sat slumped against a pillow, his gaze vacant and his face expressionless. The spider bite had been sewn shut, the stitches a dark contrast against his deathly pale skin. But, despite the ghostly look, his son was breathing, alive.

Thranduil had been sitting by his side for days. Not sleeping, barely eating what the servants brought him, simply watching the slow rise and fall of Legolas' chest. He had even written his letter to Elrond by propping up the paper on the bed, his handwriting shaky and thin, the quill breaking through the parchment several times.

Legolas didn't wake from his trance-like state often, but when he did, he was delirious and didn't recognize anyone. He flinched and growled at anyone who tried to touch him, his eyes wild and teeth bared.

Thranduil was terrified that his son would slip away again. That one day he would fall asleep and when he woke up Legolas' chest would be still and his blue eyes blanker than they were now.

Outside the morning sun rose swiftly, banishing the shadows of night with confidence and grace. Underneath it's glory, a carriage was being readied to bear Legolas to Rivendell. Thranduil had received a message from Elrond telling him that Legolas would always be welcome at Rivendell, no matter the circumstances. Thranduil's relief was great, and as he watched the carriage bearing his son roll away through his office window, he finally felt some form of peace.

Three healers accompanied Legolas inside the carriage, each one attentive to any changes in their prince's condition. He continued to wake on and off, each time more delusional than the last. It came to the point where the healers had to restrain him as he attempted to lash out at them, terror scrawled across every inch of his face. Even in his sleep, he muttered and cried out in pain. The healers had no idea how to help their beloved prince, they could only hope that Lord Elrond could do something.

The journey took three weeks of hard driving, and all gave a sigh of relief when the rocky opening to Rivendell appeared before them. As the carriage trundled down the road, one of the healers went ahead to prepare the way. When the carriage rolled up to the gates, Lord Elrond stood there, worry lining his eternally young face.

"How is he?" He questioned the healers.

"Worsening." They replied, "He falls further into despair every day. We tried to arrive as quickly as possible, but I fear we might be too late."

Elrond shook his head, "Nonsense, Legolas is a strong elf. He will prevail in the end, I am sure of it."

He gestured to the elves behind him and they hurried forward to unload Legolas from the carriage and bear him to the Healing Halls. Lord Elrond followed close behind.

When the sleeping prince was laid out on fresh white sheets, Elrond began his preliminary examination, talking to himself as he went.

"His heartbeat's slow, pulse is thready, but he's alive." He announced to the healers circling the bed, "In fact, there seems to be no real damage to his body besides the bite. I will have to examine further to find why he isn't healing as he should."

A knock sounded on the door and Elrond looked up from the bed, "Come in."

A tall, golden-haired elf entered, his crystal blue eyes searching Elrond's face for answers.

"He's alive." Elrond said simply, and the elf bowed his head in relief, "But he is in dire need of help. I fear Legolas has been wounded beyond his physical form, his mind is suffering from the shock of death. Glorfindel, did anything like this happen to you after your death. I know you do not like to speak of it, but it is essential that I know."

Glorfindel shook his head, "I just woke up, no memory of what had happened. Nothing like this." He gestured to Legolas's pale form.

Elrond sighed, "I may have to use Vilya to heal his mind. Glorfindel, would you sit with me. The rest of you may leave."

The other healers bowed and left the room as Glorfindel walked over and sat on the chair besides Elrond, who turned to him and said, "I'm going to take you in too. I think the two of us would have better luck figuring out how to help Legolas."

Glorfindel nodded solemnly, he knew Elrond rarely used his Ring, so Legolas must truly be in danger. He grasped his Lord's hand and closed his eyes as Elrond began to chant in Ancient Elvish. He could feel the hum of magic radiating off of Elrond and suddenly he felt his mind pulled from his body. When he opened his eyes, everything was black.


	4. Chapter 4

Pain echoed throughout every inch of Legolas's body. He couldn't find the source, everything around him was dark and silent, but he felt the agony intensely. He felt like something had a hold on him, some dark being with its claws speared into his soul. It was almost as if something had attached itself to him.

His last memory was of the spider bite, and he wondered if he was dead. Was this what death felt like? Was endless pain all that was left? No, it couldn't be.

He strained to open his eyes, but they felt glued shut. He tried to move and found that his body was like stone, unable to even twitch a finger. He was trapped in his own mind.

Time passed at a crawl. At one point, he felt his father's calming presence at his side, which gave him relief. If his father was near he couldn't be dead, couldn't he? Or was he simply being comforted by the Valar in his eternal torment? The question worried him and he could not let it stray far from the front of his mind.

Another piercing bolt of pain shot through him and he tried to scream but no sound came out. His eyes opened slightly, and he could see figures in white above him. The Valar? No, healers. He recognized one of their voices.

He could feel his body thrashing around, unlocked from its paralyzed state, but he had no control over it. Pain continuously coursed through his whole body, right down to his toes, and he wondered if it would never stop.

Eventually, his eyes were closed again and his body still. Even more time passed, and he felt the presence of his father fade. He could feel hot tears on his cheeks as Thranduil's warm aura left him. It had been his only comfort in this hell.

After a long time, he sensed the world around him changing. The pain lessened and a calmness fell over him. He was much more comfortable.

Then there was a light, the first light to penetrate this everlasting darkness inside his mind, and a soothing voice that he could almost recognize.

"Legolas. Legolas, where are you?"

And then another voice, this one strong and golden, "Legolas!"

He tried to call out, but found he still had no control over himself. The voices drew closer, then fade past him. He attempted reaching out with his mind, but he found that he couldn't reach the people looking for him. It was as if there was a whole vast ocean between them even though they had only just passed him.

He almost cried in frustration. It had been ages and ages since he had been able to control his own body, and he still didn't know what had happened to him or even if he was still alive. He wanted to scream and cry and beat his hands against a wall all at once, and it was killing him.

Then the light came back, accompanied by the voices.

"Legolas! There you are!"

He felt a warm hand grasp his as the being knelt beside him, the other staying standing. He finally recognized the voice and managed to croak out his first words in a long long time, "Lord Elrond?"

"Yes, penneth, I'm here." The hand caressed his own and he could hear the worry in the Lord's voice.

"What's wrong?" The other elf, presumably Glorfindel, asked.

Elrond sighed, "I don't know. It's almost as if-"

Suddenly there was a rush of air and a roaring that pierced their ears. The trio flinched and Elrond and Glorfindel turned to face the noise.

"What was that?" Glorfindel murmured, crouching next to Elrond.

"I don't know. But we best get out of here as quick as possible. It seems as though our prince is not the only one inhabiting his mind."


End file.
